


Tonight I'm living for the flight

by swishandflick



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Bicycles, Canon Compliant, Ferris Wheels, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, High School Reunions, Hockey, M/M, Pumpkins, SO MUCH FLUFF, alcohol mention, clubs, mild roleplay, short reference to unpleasant high school experiences including bullying, that's a bunch of tags i never thought i'd type together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22730416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swishandflick/pseuds/swishandflick
Summary: “Or let’s buy one of those tandem bikes, for all of us!” Ronan says excitedly. Lovett can’t resist kissing him again.“Whatever you want, baby,” he whispers.AKA Five times Lovett gives Ronan the experiences he missed out on growing up, and one time Ronan did the same.
Relationships: Ronan Farrow/Jon Lovett
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70





	Tonight I'm living for the flight

**Author's Note:**

> The blame for this fic completely rests on knowing about Lovett taking Ronan on his first rollercoaster. Title from Coney Island Antje Duvekot. Hope you enjoy this! Please keep this secret and safe!

1.

“Do people really have sex in airplane bathrooms?”

Emily’s wiggling her eyebrows and smirking at Ronan as Jon buries his laughter in Lovett’s shoulder, face slightly red.

Lovett nudges Jon’s giant head. “_Some_ people who are totally not present here have tried, but we won’t be, Ronan. I refuse to get fucked in a space smaller than a coat closet. A coat closet, now we can try that.”

Ronan turns to gape at Emily. “_How_ did you guys do it? I would’ve been so embarrassed.”

Emily smiles and presses a kiss to Jon’s still-red cheeks. “I only did it to calm this guy down, a one-hour flight isn’t worth a Xanax. And”, she adds, intertwining her fingers with Ronan’s and dragging him forward towards the line, “making out on a ferris wheel is really great too. Right, Jon?”

Jon shakes his head, smiling fondly. “You’re a menace. Ronan, you have been on a ferris wheel, right?”

Lovett jumps in. “The London eye doesn’t count.” 

“Technically, that is one of the world’s tallest, so I don’t see why it wouldn’t Jonathan.”

“Okay.” Lovett starts, rolling his eyes at Jon in a _can you believe what I’ve to put up with_ way. Ronan and Emily exchange amused glances; Ronan has a sneaky suspicion this will end up on the rant wheel for next week’s Lovett or leave it.

“First of all, it’s not open, so it doesn’t count. It doesn’t count if your legs aren’t hanging out into the air. And it should only fit two people, for aforementioned romantic purposes.”

Jon chimes in. “What if there’s a throuple? Or more? I can see some downsides.”

“Dear Diary,” Lovett obediently exclaims. “In that case, the London eye is fine. Or one of those modern ferris wheels. But if you’re not slightly fearful of death when you’re on it what is the point?”

“None. Okay, come on, Jon, let’s leave these lovebirds to get it on.” Emily gives their ride tickets to the bored-looking man collecting them.

“Good luck, Ro,” Jon ruffles Ronan’s hair, making him squeal. The two climb into a seat precariously.

“You ready?” Lovett asks, taking Ronan’s hand, and pressing a kiss to it. “This won’t be like the rollercoaster, so you won’t actually be screaming.”

“So you’re saying you _won’t_ be having your dirty way with me? I am slightly disappointed, Jonathan.” 

Lovett raises his eyebrows at him. “Interesting.” He hands over two tickets to the collector, who directs them to an empty pod with a gruff “have fun.”

“Get in first,” Lovett says, with a grin. Ronan narrows his eyes at him but complies, sitting down gingerly. 

Lovett gets in, making sure to jostle the pod enough to make Ronan glare at him. Lovett grins innocently, placing the safety bar over their lap and leaning to plant a kiss on Ronan’s mouth.

“Wait till we’re actually moving, folks!” Ronan and Lovett look up to see Jon smirking at them, Emily giggling next to him. Lovett’s about to flash them the finger when, with a sudden jerk, the wheel starts to move.

“Isn’t this nice?” Ronan says, slipping an arm around Lovett as they slowly gain height. He brings his other arm to lightly rest against the waistband of Lovett’s shorts, who raises his eyebrows at him again.

“Okay, I know we were joking about it but this isn’t a good place for a quickie, Ronan. It would be terrible for me to fall to my death while being dicked down.” 

Ronan sighs and rests his head on Lovett’s shoulder, looking around at the lights of the city. It’s late evening, they’re halfway up and stopping every other minute, and from what he’s been informed and seen on film, they usually stop for a few minutes at the top.

“Wouldn’t I fall to my death too, if you are being dicked down?” 

“Gross,” Lovett says, “although it’s a good way to go. Maybe not great for our publicists to deal with, though.”

“Good point.” Ronan presses a kiss to the top of Lovett’s head. “Wow, look at this!”

“The one at Coney Island is better.” Lovett sighs. “I miss home sometimes.”

“It’s still your home,” Ronan adds, “perks of being bicoastal. But if you miss it so much, we can talk about spending more time up there, Jonathan.”

“When we kick the madman out of the White House and into prison, maybe.” Lovett presses another kiss to Ronan’s lips. 

They come to a stop at the very top, and suddenly it’s much harder for Ronan to lean back from the kiss to take in the view. It’s breathtaking, and makes up for having to stop kissing Lovett. Almost. 

“Don’t people propose at the very top when they’re on a ferris wheel?” Ronan inquires. 

Lovett smirks at him. “Why, have you got ideas?” 

Ronan draws Lovett in to take his lips again. He adds a nip with his teeth, making Lovett whine softly. “No. You, baby, deserve the moon.”

“Gravity boots”, Lovett whispers back. They kiss softly on their way back to earth.

xxx  
2.

“Tommy!” 

Ronan’s yelling, laughing, his voice carrying over to where Lovett stands with his phone out. Tommy’s whooping from where he’s given Ronan a nice push to get him moving on his bicycle.

“Jonathan, look!” Ronan yells, his face alight with glee as he pedals down the street. 

“Yes darling, I am filming this, you’re doing so great okay? Keep going.” Lovett feels like his heart might burst with fondness. That’s his Ronan, riding a bicycle for the first time.

Emily, Hanna, and Jon come out of the house, all three clapping. “Yes, Ro!” Hanna yells. Emily takes her phone out. 

“I feel like a proud parent.” Tommy declares, grinning softly and watching Ronan cycle to the end of their street. 

Lovett scoffs, watching through the campera as the tiny image of Ronan grow bigger as he pedals towards him. 

“Okay, let’s not forget who bought the bike, and made him look up at the road and not the pedals.”

Tommy comes to stand next to him. “I pushed him and held his handlebars all the time, that’s the real work, Lovett.”

Lovett shakes his head. “Fake news! I did it at least forty percent of the time. Okay, maybe thirty-five.” He watches as a couple of guys smile at Ronan on the bike as they pass him.  
Lovett tries not to straighten up. _If they make fun of him_, he thinks, _they’ll have to deal with me._ But they pass on without comment, and Lovett’s able to let his shoulders loosen. He’s so far away from his life in high school now, but old wounds run deep, and he sometimes forgets there’s no need to always look around the corner for bullies.

“Think he’ll bike to work from now?” Jon asks, walking up to Lovett and Tommy. 

“Give him a few days, he’ll be competing in the Tour de France.” Lovett adds to raucous laughter that turn to cheers as Ronan comes to a stop in front of them, beaming.

Lovett pulls him in for a deep kiss as Ronan reaches for him, still on the bike. 

“I want a pink bike!” Ronan says, leaning back. “With tassels. And a basket.”

“For your reporter’s notebook?” Lovett teases. 

“I’ll buy you one, Ronan.” Emily replies, stepping forward to place a kiss on Ronan’s forehead. 

“Or let’s buy one of those tandem bikes, for all of us!” Ronan says excitedly. Lovett can’t resist kissing him again. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he whispers. He can hear Emily clicking a picture of them, the boys wolf whistling. He doesn’t care.

xxx  
3.

“How do they go so fast?” Ronan’s clutching on to Lovett’s hand as he sits at the edge of his seat, watching the players skate mesmerizingly on the ice.

“You tell them they’ve to do it for a living.” Lovett preens as Jon and Tommy burst into laughter. Tommy tries to arrange his features into a stern expression. “Now the Penguins are the best team in the league, Lovett, so don’t let any fans hear you say that.”

“Is that the white team?” Ronan inquires. “And why are these uniforms so bland? Where’s all the color?”

“Also a question for the Oscars. And Congress.” Lovett adds, provoking another bout of laughter. He takes mental notes to tweet that one. Or use it for a segment for Thursday’s show. Or both.

“The white team’s the LA Kings, the penguins are in black and gold.” Jon says helpfully. “And no Lovett, I don’t know why they don’t wear gold helmets.”

“Okay, they’re probably going to start soon, if anyone wants to grab some food.” Tommy gets up. “Who wants what?My treat, for Ronan’s first sporting event.”

Ronan smiles at Tommy. “Can I have a kale and mango smoothie with chia and pomegranate seeds? A medium.”

Tommy laughs so hard that several people around them turn to stare.

Lovett smiles at a bemused Ronan. “Human food, baby. They only sell gluten here, come on, we watched all those movies with sports in them, remember?”

Ronan nods once, like he’s been fact checked. “Okay, in that case, I’ll have a..hot dog? Is that good?”

Lovett nods, kissing Ronan’s cheek. “I’ll have a hot dog too.”

“Please get him a beer too,” Jon adds, leaning over Lovett to address Tommy. “He will just steal mine otherwise.”

“Slander!”Lovett gasps, turning to Jon. “Just because I drink _one sip_! You’ll deny your fellow human this, Jon? Is this what the Obama presidency taught you?”

“You’re a monster,” Jon adds, his smile giving away his fondness. “You need a hand, Tommy?”

“I’ll be fine,” Tommy calls out, running down the steps.

“Tommy’s hands can hold Wailord, of course he’ll be fine.” Lovett turns to watch Ronan throw his head back, laughing. He’s so beautiful it hurts sometimes. He looks tiny and godlike sitting here, ethereal, out among the sea of people at a sporting event. 

“They all have great asses,” Ronan tells them. “Must be all the skating around and hitting disks.”

Jon chimes in with a patient “it’s called a puck, Ro” as Lovett states, “That was literally the only thing that made going to these games with my dad bearable. All of this going on.” He waves his direction in the general direction of the players warming up.

Tommy comes back armed with food just as the national anthem finishes. They let Tommy brush past them to his seat as they sit down. 

“Why are these seats and aisles so narrow?” Ronan grumbles. “I am not even tall, and I can’t even fit myself in them.”

“It’s the only way to fit a hundred thousand in this space,” Tommy says, passing them the hot dogs and beers. “Now, Lovett, they didn’t have your special snowflake beer so shut up and drink this.”

“That’s homophobic,” Lovett cries. “Is this what I get for coming to support your new home team with you bros?”

“No, you came because you wanted Ronan to experience a game.” Jon helpfully answers.

“Yeah we’ve come to like five of these in the past three years, Lovett, we don’t need you to come support them.” Tommy adds, taking a huge bite of his hot dog.

“Ronan, help, they’re being mean to me.” Lovett turns to snuggle into Ronan’s held out arm as the game begins.

“I’ll protect you, baby. Now let’s watch. What’s that square in the corner?”

Lovett shrugs as Jon leans forward to answer Ronan’s question. The game’s fast paced and exciting, with the crowd going nuts every few seconds. Ronan fires questions every other minute.

“Why is a _jeweler_ sponsoring this? Shouldn’t they wear jewelry then? Like a bracelet. Or a tiara.”

“Why can’t they just take the disc-” 

“Puck.”

“-the puck and throw it?”

“Okay, let me see if I understand, they can’t lift the puck, but they can drop their stick to punch an opponent?”

“This is also what Republican senators want to do.” Lovett adds. Tommy and Jon are flushed with laughter from Ronan’s incessant questions, and Lovett observes several people in the adjacent rows near them grinning at them too.

_My baby,_ he thinks proudly. 

“Okay, that man is literally being hit with a stick, can someone stop this?” Ronan demands, craning his neck to look at the ice.

“It’s just the game, Ro, they’re used to it,” Tommy informs him. 

“Maybe they should just talk it out.” Ronan looks around to see three fond faces staring at him with soft smiles.

“Spoken like a true diplomat.” Lovett kisses his nose. “Maybe we’ll get your War on Peace publishers to sponsor these guys.”

“The penguins,” Ronan says, “I like the penguins. We’ll sponsor them.” 

“Only if we can get them to wear golden helmets too,” Lovett whispers.

“You should wear a golden helmet,” Ronan whispers back. “And the rest of the uniform. You have the ass for it. And certainly the thighs.”

“It’ll be my first sports-related purchase.” Lovett kisses him as Ronan lets out a “you’re welcome”, even as a stadium erupts in unison a second later. 

xxx  
4.

“How have you never done this in DC before?” Lovett yells, straining to be heard over the loud music. 

“I tried, I was too intimidated for the clubbing scene, I think.” Ronan draws Lovett closer into the circle of his arms until their hips are grinding slowly together. 

“If I’d met you in DC in a club I would have asked you to dance.” Lovett thrusts his hips pointedly at Ronan’s until he groans.

“Just to dance?” Ronan teases. Lovett feels warmth pool in his belly at that, along with an idea.

“Wait here,” he says, stepping away from Ronan, who automatically starts to follow. 

“_Wait_,” Lovett repeats, trying to staunch the guilt at Ronan’s slightly puzzled look even as he acquises, looking alone and lost in the middle of the dance floor.

He rapidly walks through the crowd and turns sideways around two people making out intensely, and then cuts back in towards Ronan, now approaching him from behind. His fiancé is swaying to the music dorkily; Lovett spots several appreciative looks cast on his lone figure from several eyes on the dance floor. 

_Mine_, he tries to telepathically ward them all away, hoping his confident stride towards Ronan will do the job instead. He taps him on the shoulder, taking a second to admire how the black pair of jeans frame his ass.

“Oh, I am here with-,” Ronan starts, turning around, and then stops when he spots Lovett. “Hi!Where did you-”

Lovett cuts in. “Sorry, did you say you were with someone? I just noticed you by yourself here, thought I’d ask you if you wanted to dance.”

Ronan’s eyes widen in realization. 

“Yes,” he rushes out. “I mean, I was with someone, with my friends, but I am dancing alone, yes, let’s dance.” Lovett watches with fondness as a blush creeps on Ronan’s face. He yearns to press kisses to them. _Soon_.

“My name is Jonathan.” He grasps Ronan by the shoulder and slowly turns him around, wrapping an arm around his torso to pull him against Lovett’s body.

Ronan’s already moving his hips, his ass flush against Lovett’s rapidly hardening cock. It felt like they’d taken a fire that was steadily and merrily simmering earlier five minutes ago and poured gasoline all over it. 

“Ronan,” Lovett hears as he lets his hand roam up the gorgeous body grinding on him, brushing against Ronan’s left nipple. He hears a soft gasp.

“Nice to meet you, Ronan.”

“Likewise,” Ronan responds, his voice already deepening. Lovett knows that if he looked into his eyes now, they’d be blown black. 

“What do you do, Ronan?” The music picks up around them, slipping into something from the Top 40s that every person in the club recognizes. Lovett isn’t interested in moving them to the song, they’ve got their own dance here, the situation they’ve created driving their bodies more than the music.

“I am a journalist. You?”

“I am a podcaster,” Lovett responds. 

“Me too!” Ronan chimes in, his voice slipping into a knowing, teasing lilt. Lovett rolls his eyes. _ Menace_, he thinks, rewarding Ronan for his cheek with a little nip to his neck that causes him to jump and let out a little moan. Lovett wants more of those. He seals his mouth over the same spot, sucking a mark into Ronan’s pale neck. 

Ronan brings an arm to loosely hold against Lovett’s face, the motion driving his hips against Lovett’s hard cock, making them both groan. 

“Yeah? Maybe we should collaborate. Our fans might like that.” 

Ronan’s panting now, his mouth hanging open, letting out tiny gasps and moans whenever Lovett thrusts up against him or presses his mouth to his neck.

“Y-yes. Sure. Give me your number, and we’ll set something up.” 

Lovett thinks he’s going to combust, he _needs_ to take Ronan behind closed doors, or he’s going to do something embarrassing like confess his love on the dance floor.

“How about I take you home, and then give you my number?” Lovett lets out. _Let’s go home, baby, I need you _, he adds mentally, hoping Ronan gets the hint.

Ronan immediately turns around in his arms and kisses him with so much vigor that Lovett feels his body shift back slightly, knocking into the sea of bodies behind him. They stand there making out for several minutes until Ronan’s practically writhing in his arms, thrusting his hips minutely against Lovett’s. It would be so embarrassing if he comes in his pants, but that’s exactly what he fears waiting around will do as he grabs Ronan’s hand and leads him towards the exit.

They reach an unspoken agreement to momentarily suspend the act for the cab ride home, not really talking, but just holding hands and leaning against each other for the ride home. Pundit jumps on them as Lovett unlocks the door, and he quickly lets her out the back door as he tells Ronan to make himself comfortable, both of them pretending they can’t spot all the Ronan related paraphernalia scattered around their house.

The sex that night is something for the books, Lovett thinks later, holding an already zonked out Ronan in his arms. He’d put Ronan on his front and eaten him out until he’d been sobbing into the pillow, and then ridden his cock so well they’d both been completely breathless by the end of it, chasing their orgasms.

“So I am guessing not all grinding sessions in clubs turn into this,” Ronan says the next morning at breakfast, passing Lovett his coffee.

“A partnership? A marriage in a few months? I guess not.” Lovett grins at him. “I think we were just lucky.”

xxx  
5.

“Can’t we make pie out of these?” Ronan inquires, scooping more pumpkin gut into the bowl. “Seems like a waste to throw it all away.”

“None of us can cook though,” Jon replies. “My mom also roasts the seeds, they’re delicious.” 

“_You_ can’t cook, Jon, I made a yule log. I’ll make you a pie, baby.” Lovett grabs the knife, eyeing his outline critically one last time before touching the tip of the knife to his pumpkin.

“Hey, I make eggs every day now. Okay, look up, you guys, Em’ll kill me if I don’t get any pictures before she gets here.”

Lovett leans back until his back touches Ronan’s chest and smiles at Jon, though it turns to an exaggerated glare the second the phone’s lowered.

“Grab a pumpkin, come on Jon, where’s your fucking company spirit? You do this _every_ year,” Lovett rants. “Ronan, make him carve a pumpkin.”

“I am waiting for Emily, she has an idea we want to try.” Jon’s eyes have a mad gleam in them that Lovett does not like one bit. His indignation falls aside when he spots Ronan at his side though, focusing razor-sharp on his pumpkin, knife held carefully in his hand. Lovett loves him in these moments, well, Lovett loves him every moment, but there’s something about a Ronan so thoroughly focused on even the smallest of tasks that makes his brain slow down into a nice hum. He impulsively leans to press a kiss on Ronan’s head, who then automatically turns around to kiss Lovett back.

Later,when they’re done, Lovett holds Ronan’s hand as they walk around the office looking at other pumpkins, posing for Elijah’s constantly filming Instagram Live. Lovett watches with a smile as Ronan run towards Emily as she walks in and hug her; it’s been almost a month since his last visit to LA and everyone’s been getting antsy, complaining about not seeing enough of Ronan when Lovett went to visit him in New York.

_Just wait till the end of the year_, Lovett tells Emily, Jon, Tommy, and Hanna whenever they bring it up. _Two more months. Just wait_.

“I have the costumes ready,” Emily tells Lovett as she comes up to him, and he grins. This was another thing he can do with Ronan now, couples costumes, even if they’ll be one of several dressing up as Schitt’s Creek characters. It’s fine. He’s fine with all the clichés that put a smile on Ronan’s face, since apparently getting really into halloween costume design and execution with Emily was his true calling.

Ronan unanimously wins the best pumpkin contest for his extremely cute Pundit as a Pokémon dog named Poképundit. Lovett chastises people for acting amused that it’s Ronan’s first ever pumpkin carving, announcing that his fiancé’s first-timer was of course the best one of the lot.  
Emily and Jon’s gets disqualified for the second year in a row due to _someone_ voting more than once, but it warms Lovett’s heart all the same to see it. It’s got the numbers 12. 20. 2020 cut into it, with a Ronan + Jonathan underneath it, along with a “Pundit the angel invites you to” etched at the very top.

Lovett clicks a picture of it with Ronan hugging him from behind. He turns selfie mode on and clicks a picture of them too. He sends both of them to their wedding group chat with the caption “Two more months!” 

xxx  
+1

“Did you have fun?” Ronan asks softly, closing the door behind them. “You look like you had fun, baby.”

Lovett looks up from between Pundit’s fur. “It was so good, oh my god, Ronan. Did you see their faces? Mark, when he saw you, I thought he died a little. I almost killed a man tonight.”

Ronan laughs as he walks forward to take Lovett and Pundit into his arms. Lovett watches as their dog licks Ronan’s face as he presses a kiss between her eyes. 

“You blew them away Jonathan, that was all you. Obama speechwriter, podcast despot, television showrunner.” Ronan takes Lovett’s mouth in a deep kiss, letting Pundit go as she squirms to jump down.

“And your husband,” Lovett murmurs between their lips. 

Ronan moans slightly. Lovett leans back amusedly. “It’s been three months. Still?”

“Quaint of you to think I’ll stop getting turned on by this after three months. I just..” Ronan groans again, thrusting his hips slightly against Lovett’s, “I just _lose_ it when you say I am your husband or you’re mine, all casual like that. I wanted to drag you to the locker room today at your school, every time you said that.”

“That would have been the best thing to have happened to me in that building,” Lovett tells him, pressing kisses on Ronan’s cheeks and nose. 

They stand there in the middle of their house slowly trading kisses and shedding clothes. When Ronan slides into him an hour later in their bed, Lovett gasps and keeps his eyes on Ronan’s face, leaning forward to grab his mouth. It feels like Ronan fucks him for hours, for days, the adrenaline from their night out adding to the intimacy as much as the cool spring night.

“Thank you,” Lovett whispers later, resting his head on Ronan’s chest, his hand splayed across the softness of his stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever come home from my high school happy.”

Ronan lets out a disgruntled noise, soothing it immediately by pressing his lips to Lovett’s forehead. Lovett knows it hurts and angers Ronan to hear about his shitty high school life, about his bullies and recycling bins and teachers who just didn’t care enough. He rushes to continue. 

“Today was the first time, though. And it was only because you were there with me.”

Ronan holds him tighter. “I am glad. And I go wherever you go Jonathan, you know that. I only wish I’d known you in high school.”

“Yeah?” Lovett asks softly, turning to look into Ronan's eyes, reflecting the moonlight streaming in from the window. “You would’ve been my high school boyfriend? Held my hand between classes, threw stones at my bedroom window so we can go make out in the car in the middle of the night?”

“Anything you want,” Ronan says just as softly, like they were both hesitant to disturb the dreamlike quality the night had taken on. 

“Will that still get me here though? With you in our bed? Your husband? Because if not I just want this.” Lovett moves closer into Ronan’s arms.

“We’ll always have this.” Ronan leans in at that, and the two of them drift off to sleep kissing softly.

xxxxxxxxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I wrote this out in three hours while wanting a break from writing another angsty fic.
> 
> I also know nothing about ice hockey, and a large part of the conversation in that bit came from me asking a friend when we went to a game. Apologies to any hockey fans for my ineptitude!
> 
> Any kudos or comments are much appreciated! My tumblr is tenisperfection.


End file.
